


A White Knight Upon a Fiery Steed

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy figures the simplest way for him to make enough money to support himself and his sister will be to rescue a princess. Her parents will pay him for his trouble, and he'll be set for life.But princesses are generally in a lot of peril. So he's going to start small and work his way up.





	A White Knight Upon a Fiery Steed

Bellamy's thinking is this: the fastest way to elevate his station is to rescue a princess. It's neither the smartest way, nor the easiest, but princesses are always getting kidnapped or put in peril, and rescuing them is a sure path to wealth. Traditionally, anyone who rescues a princess is supposed to get to marry her, but as a political policy, it turns out that has some faults. When it was all princes and knights doing it, it was easy, but when the first commoner decided that it would be a good way to elevate his own station, the seams started to show. The princess's family had been grateful, but not really ready to marry their daughter off to a complete stranger with no experience as a ruler or aristocrat. Instead, they'd paid him a handsome sum for his service and married the princess to her favorite prince.

Which has now become the standard way for princesses to be rescued. Being kidnapped is one of those odds rights of passage for a princess, a part of life for reasons Bellamy does not understand, so the princess-rescuing business is a good place for a decently competent young man with no fortune to make a living. Some are hired specifically, either by kings and queens who want their daughters back, or by princes who hope to marry the princesses in question, while others simply wander around, chasing rumors and figuring out how to overcome whatever trials there are to overcome. 

That's the one Bellamy's interested in. He doesn't know any royals, and doesn't really have enough of a heroic resume that he thinks anyone will hire him. But he's smart and can take care of himself, so he thinks that, left to his own devices, he should be able to figure out the rescue business. He'll start with minor peeresses, make a living off of the daughters of dukes and earls, until he's gotten good enough to do a princess, at which point he'll have enough to support his mother and his sister.

Or he'll die in a cave somewhere, but he's met people who have successfully gotten decently rich off of this, and he's way more competent than they are. He can definitely do this.

"If you die, make sure they send your body back," his sister says, bright.

"Why? What are you going to do with my body?"

"It's called _closure_ , Bell. We need the body to know you're really gone."

"That sounds expensive and pointless. If you don't hear from me for over a year, just assume I'm dead. Then if I'm not, it's a fun surprise."

She rolls her eyes, but hugs him around his waist when he puts his arm around her shoulders. "I'm just going to start assuming you're dead now. Then every time I get a letter, it'll be a relief."

"That's the spirit. Take care of Mom, okay?"

"I will. Don't actually die. It's not worth it."

"I won't die unless it's worth it." He kisses her temple. "It's fine. Most people just give up and come home in shame."

"You'd probably die, though," she says. "Before you admitted you fucked up."

"Probably. So I just won't fuck up."

"You better not."

They hug once more and then that's it; he's on the road, making it on his own, getting started in his new career.

The first rescue he's attempting is a fairly easy one, which he's heard is how it usually goes. It's best to start with a minor noble who only recently ascended to the aristocracy, probably by agreeing to some sort of deal involving imprisoning their firstborn. This particular minor noble is Baron Makrus, whose daughter is trapped in a labyrinth. It might not be the _best_ first adventure, but Bellamy likes labyrinths. He's read a lot of stories about them, knows the various tricks to get through. All he needs is some string and maybe some parchment, as a backup. He can absolutely solve a labyrinth. Judging from the size of it, it'll take a good few hours, maybe even a few days, but that's fine.

It wouldn't be a quest if it wasn't somewhat difficult.

The first few hours go well. He finds a place to tie his string on the way in, unravels it as he walks as well as making a map. He turns left every chance he gets, because that's another trick he's read, and while that does end in his going in circles a few times, by the time he's ready to stop for food and a short break, he's feeling pretty good about his chances of making it through in only a day or so.

He's gnawing on some dry beef and updating his map when a girl sits down next to him and puts her own parchment next to his. Hers is much, much more detailed, with a grid drawn on and some notes for measurements.

"Hi," he says, a little wary. It's not uncommon for more than one person to try to rescue the same damsel in distress; they are, after all, in limited supply. But Bellamy wasn't actually expecting to see anyone.

"Hi. I saw your string, so I got curious."

He consider this for a moment, and then asks, "You aren't, uh--Lady Niylah?" He thinks that was her name. Maybe she already broke out.

"Nope. I'm a cartographer."

"A cartographer?" 

"Mapmaker," she says, and he frowns.

"I know what a cartographer is. What's one doing in a labyrinth?"

"Sorry, do you not see the value of having a map right now? You're making one too."

His frown deepens. "Yeah, but--what are you going to do with it?"

She looks him over, sizing him up, and he returns the favor. She looks like she's a year or two older than Octavia, pretty, with wavy blonde hair and sharp blue eyes.

"Do you know how many heiresses have been imprisoned in this labyrinth in this last ten years?"

"Uh, this one specifically?"

"There aren't _that many_ mazes in the realm. Just this one and a series of caves in the north. You don't think people would pay for an accurate map to save themselves the trouble of what you're doing?"

"I couldn't have afforded one," he says, not an accusation, just an observation. He doesn't disagree with her, exactly. If every lady trapped in a labyrinth in the last ten years has been trapped in one of two places, a map makes sense. The right person could probably capitalize on it; people like mazes, when they aren't worried they'll die.

"No," she agrees. "But Lady Niylah has been in here for five weeks, waiting for someone to come get her. That's not fair."

It's hard to argue with that, so he offers her a strip of dry meat. "Okay, so, why are you talking to me? Just lonely? How long have you been in here?"

"About a week. I'm hoping you'll let me follow you."

"Yeah? Why? Is the map not working?"

She has some fruit and nuts, and she shares those with him in thanks for the meat. "You seem to know what you're doing, and you're not actually afraid of the labyrinth."

He plucks the string. "I can leave any time I want."

"Are you going to sleep in here?"

"If I have to. If you haven't found the lady yet, it might take me a while."

"I'm not just looking for her. The first few days I was just measuring."

"Measuring what?"

She moves a little closer, showing him her parchment. "So, I wanted to know how large the entire place was. The bricks are uniform, eight inches long, four inches wide, four inches tall," she explains, showing him a labeled sketch. "The walls are eight inches thick, so it's pretty easy. The first few days, I found the front corners, so I know how wide it is. That let me refine the map and make a grid."

"Wow. You're serious about this."

"Yeah, but--I don't actually need all this information."

"No?"

She smiles. "I don't think anyone cares about the dimensions of the labyrinth. They just want the solution. So I still need a good map to make sure I can give the right one, but I don't need to show every dead end."

"So you want me to solve it and you follow me?"

"I want us to work together. You can take credit for the rescue, I don't mind. But I could use someone to help out. And you probably could too. What if someone cuts the string or something?"

He had admittedly been worrying about that. He doesn't think it's very common, but some kids could just decide to screw with him, not thinking about the real consequences. And if he works with the cartographer, he could maybe leave if he had to, without risking his progress. He hasn't gone that far, not if he took all the right turns. It's the maze that causes problems. 

And his own map is woefully inadequate.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Clarke."

"I'm Bellamy," he says. "What do you need me to do?"

They get to know each other in odd spurts. She has him count bricks in the wall as they walk, her on the left, him on the right, and when one of them hits a door, they compare totals. While she updates her map, they chat a little. She's seventeen, her father passed away last year, and she's trying to make enough money of her own that she can be picky about marrying, instead of letting her mother sell her off. This is her first rescue attempt too, but she wants to try other challenges after this, to see if they can be solved.

"I'd rather get rid of it entirely," she explains. "But it's still a status symbol and bargaining tool for nobles, so it's going to happen any time soon. I assume you weren't hired for this."

The apparent change in topic catches him off guard. "No?"

She glances over from her map, looking unimpressed. "Baron Makrus isn't rich enough to hire someone, or he would have already. Niylah isn't much of a prize, if that's how you're looking at her. Do you want to marry her?"

"Fuck, no," he says, and she smirks at his vehemence. "No offense meant to her, but--I don't want to be a noble. I just want to bring some money home to my mother and sister. This labyrinth was close and I thought I could solve it. That's all."

Clarke nods. "That's what I thought. It won't be a big prize, but--the baron loves his daughter. He'll be grateful."

"And I've got to start building a reputation somewhere, right?"

"If this is what you want." She huffs. "It's still the same thing as before, though. I appreciate the increased distribution of wealth," she adds. "But it's still noble women who are being imprisoned and suffering, just to be used as pawns for political gain."

"So you're going to sell the maps directly to the ladies?" he asks, and she jerks up. "What? That would be the best idea. Self-rescuing princesses. No assistance required."

"I don't know if it would work," she admits. "But at least if they had someone they _wanted_ to rescue them--" She shrugs. "That sounds better to me. We're all just one bad spell away from being imprisoned forever. Even girls like Lady Niylah. Her father loves her, and he still sold her to a witch to gain power."

"Maybe she agreed."

"Maybe. But even if she did--five weeks alone in a maze. I'd want to have a plan to get out aside from hoping."

He wonders if Octavia's father ever wanted to sell her to get ahead in the world. He probably would have, if they'd stayed with him. If he figured out how.

"I wonder if we can figure out a way to get out of the room from the inside," he says, offering Clarke a hand up once she finishes updating her map. "Self-rescuing princesses would definitely be the most efficient."

She looks pleased. "Yeah. That's what I was thinking."

They do leave to sleep, navigation out of the maze easy between his string and her map. Neither of them wants to pay for an inn, but they have sleeping rolls, and they make camp together. It's not exactly friendly, but it feels like the first step there. Clarke is quiet and a little overly serious, but he doesn't mind that, really. She has a somewhat dark sense of humor, the kind he likes, and she's serious about things she should be serious about. He can think of much worse people to spend some time with.

They wake up at dawn, decide it's worth it to pay for a large, hot breakfast any more than it was to pay for an inn. They restock their supplies in case they stay the night, and they make it back to where they left off in no time.

"Let me see the map again," he says, considering the two paths.

Clarke hands it over without question. "You know it's accurate."

"I know. But we should always be moving to the middle, right? Like--she's at the center of the labyrinth, that's how it works."

"I think so, yeah."

"Do you think it's a square? If it is, we should be able to tell when we're getting close."

"I'm not sure. But if it is--" She leans over, considering the map and marking a spot with charcoal. "I don't know if this is a square, but if it is, this would be the center."

He nods. "That's not far. Want to see if we can get there?"

 _Not far_ is, of course, a relative term, in a maze. It takes them a few hours to get to what Clarke identified as the middle, and even then, they don't find the entrance. But as they keep trying, updating the map as they go, they do find what looks like three walls surrounding a decently large room.

"So we just have to find the door," she says. "But I bet that's it. She's on the other side of this wall."

"We also have to figure out how to get in," he points out. "Could be a trap."

"So you can take the lead. You're the hero, right?"

He rolls his eyes. " _Hero_ is a strong word. But don't these places usually have more traps?"

"I think it used to," she says, sounding thoughtful. "When it was first built, it was, you know, a passion project."

"Passion," he repeats, shooting her a look. 

"It takes a lot of effort to build a giant labyrinth. Some ancient king made it as a torture device, I think? Or maybe just a regular a prison. He locked people in here to wander until they died. Sometimes there have been monsters in here--usually just big carnivores, I think--and sometimes other punishments. But it changed into--a test, I think? Not actually a curse back then, but a royal family decided that only a worthy suitor could have their daughter, so they locked her in the middle of the labyrinth and put in all sorts of obstacles. But these days, it's just kind of rote. Ladies need to be rescued as a rite of passage, this is a place to do it."

"You sound weirdly bitter about this," he observes. "You want people to put effort into this like in the good old days, when princes got eaten by lions?"

"It's just so _stupid_ ," she snaps. "Trading daughters for power is an industry now. It's a part of life. We're both trying to profit on it too. And there's no reason we couldn't just--do something else. Why are we locking girls in labyrinths? It's no way to run a society."

"So, your dad was trying to ascend to power before he died?" he asks, mild.

"I don't have to be directly involved to be upset about it."

"No, but still."

"I was worried I might end up stuck in a labyrinth someday, yeah. I still might, honestly. Depending on what my mother decides to do with me."

"Well, if she puts you in here, let me know," he says. "I'll come get you. No charge."

That makes her laugh. "Thanks. But we have to solve it first."

"Well, we're getting close, right?"

He does think it's true, but the labyrinth is well designed, full of twists and turns. Clarke keeps them moving back toward the center as much as she can, but it's hard to even tell if that's the right idea. Whatever route is going to take them to the center, it can't be that straightforward.

They sleep in the labyrinth that night, less because they couldn't get out and more because they're focusing so hard that by the time they realize they should be sleeping, they're too tired to make their way out again. There isn't very much room to make camp, but they find a dead-end near a corner that's large enough for the two of them to lay out their bedrolls together, and it's mostly nice. Clarke makes a small fire so it won't be pitch black, but it still feels a little bit haunted to Bellamy. 

He might not be made for places like this. 

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" Clarke asks, like she's thinking the same thing.

"Which part?"

"Rescues. Anywhere."

"I might avoid labyrinths for a few months, but yeah. This isn't torture or anything. And someone's going to do it, it might as well be me. I'm not expecting anyone to marry me, and I just want to make enough that my sister won't have to worry about marrying just to support herself. As long as this is how our economy works, I'm going to take advantage of it," he adds, and Clarke smiles.

"Same, obviously."

"Obviously."

She shifts a little, expression flickering in the fire light. "Have you heard of Lady Gaia?"

"Not off the top of my head."

"Her mother is another baroness. Her father passed and she was taken for ransom, but since her father is dead--" Clarke shrugs. "They don't have much money, but it would be good experience. I was thinking of going there next."

"They need a map?" he asks, mild, and she ducks her head. 

" _Cartographer_ was a loose job description. But I want to figure out how to save someone like her too. If you're looking for a next stop."

"Let's finish this one first, and then decide where we're going next."

Her smile flashes bright in the dark, so he doesn't have time to worry she won't like his automatic assumption of unity. She started it, anyway. They're in agreement on this one.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Finish this one first."

It's not the best night's sleep he's ever had, but it's just one night, and after they've eaten and packed up camp, it only takes an hour or so for them to find the path to the doorway. It's immediately obvious they're on the right path, and just as obvious why they weren't finding it: this corridor is at least three times as long as any other unbroken stretch of the maze, running almost all the way to what he assumes is the back of the labyrinth.

Whoever made the place definitely had a flare for drama.

"This is where I would expect traps," Clarke says, and he rolls his eyes.

"You think?"

She elbows him. "Shut up. Do you have some plan for how to check for them?"

"Traps?"

"Yeah."

"Give me the torch."

He doesn't actually have any specialized knowledge about detecting traps, but he also hasn't heard anything about traps here, and he's willing to bet Clarke is right, and no one's actually bothered to keep them in working order. They can see the remains of older sprung traps, small openings in the wall where they must have once been, but though he waves a cloth in front of every one before they pass them, none ever produce any kind of attack.

It's almost a shame; traps would have been good practice.

The door is solid wood with a padlock on the outside, not particularly inspired. Whoever's keeping abducted ladies in here really isn't putting much effort in.

"Do you pick locks?" Clarke asks.

He finds his kit. "In theory."

"In theory?"

"I taught myself. I've picked a few, but just cheap ones we had lying around the house. I don't know how I'd do with a good one."

"I guess you're about to find out."

He smiles. "I guess so."

The size of the lock is actually a blessing. It looks very impressive and imposing, but he'd been working with household locks, the ones on his mother's liquor cabinet and his sister's diary. The padlock might be more complicated, but he has so much more room to use his lockpicks. It only takes a few minutes before he has the lock undone; he grins at Clarke as it falls open.

"In practice too."

"Good job." She wets her lips. "I guess someone might fight us in there. So if you've got any weapons--"

"No, but I've won some fistfights."

"At least you won." She draws a small knife. "Let's see if we win this one."

But it doesn't come to a fight. They open the door and there's just the lady there, lying on a bed. The room isn't as bad as it could be, a little on the small side, with no sunlight, but the furnishings are comfortable enough, and she has books and food.

Even in captivity, nobles are treated well.

The lady looks between him and Clarke in shock, then scrambles to her feet and into a hasty curtsy. It's an odd politeness in a labyrinth, but he's not going to object.

"Lady Niylah, I assume," he says. "I'm Bellamy, this is Clarke. We're here to--"

"How did you get food?" Clarke asks, curious.

Niylah is watching her with an odd expression; Bellamy would be confused by this priorities too. "There's an exit through the basement. Locked from the outside, of course. Food comes three times a day."

"How generous," says Clarke, and Niylah shrugs.

"My father and I reviewed the options. This one seemed the most painless."

"And?"

Her mouth twists in a smile. "I was about ready to beg to be smuggled out when Monroe told me that someone was getting close."

"Good thing we got here when we did," says Bellamy. "Do you want me to try to bust open the other door, or should we just go out through the maze?"

"Monroe should be in with my lunch soon," she offers. "I think she'd take us out through the basement."

He can't help a snort. "Isn't she supposed to be making sure we don't get you out?"

"Of course not. You've proved yourself worthy." She goes pale suddenly. "You--are you--"

He's lost, but Clarke isn't. "He doesn't want to marry you, he's just looking for a reward."

"Oh thank goodness," she says, instantly, and then offers him a sheepish smile. "With no offense meant. I am not interested in marrying, if I can help it."

"None taken," he says. "I'm not interesting in getting married right now either." He glances at Clarke. "You really just want to wait here for your captor to come and let us out?"

"It's just a job for her too," says Niylah. "We're--friends."

Bellamy glances at Clarke, relieved to see her looking a little dubious too. He does believe this is just a job, but it's been a job for five weeks. If he'd been alone in here for five weeks, he'd be getting wonky too.

"We were friends before this," Niylah adds. "I asked her to be the one to do this."

"Oh," says Clarke. Apparently she gets it, and that's enough for him. "Then we can wait."

He figures it out too when Monroe shows up, easily makes the connection between the wary, distrustful way she watches him, the adoration in her eyes when she looks at Niylah, and the instantaneous relief that washes over her when he explains he's not hoping to get married.

If he had to be imprisoned, he guesses he'd rather his lover was the one keeping him company when he could have it. And if he was imprisoning his lover, he would probably freak out if he came to bring her lunch and found her gone.

So it's actually a weirdly companionable walk out; Niylah is thrilled to be going outside again, Monroe is happy to have her lover freed, and he's successfully completed his first damsel rescue.

Clarke's the one who asks Monroe, "Why didn't you just rescue her?"

"Me?" asks Monroe.

"You had plenty of time."

"There's a tacit agreement that the kidnapper can't actually be the rescuer," she says. "It doesn't count if I just change my mind. I thought about not agreeing to take care of her, but--" She glances at Niylah. "Then someone else would do it, and I didn't know if they'd do a good job."

"And she could always take me out, if I didn't want to stay."

"It's easy to do a jailbreak when you're the jailer," Monroe adds, with a smirk, and Niylah smiles back at her. 

"Self-rescuing princesses," Bellamy murmurs to Clarke, and she smiles too.

"It's going to be a thing."

Baron Makrus is overjoyed to have his daughter back, which is just bizarre to Bellamy. He's never had any desire to use Octavia to elevate his station, so he doesn't know exactly how it works, but the whole thing is still so _weird_. He knows the theory behind these kinds of magical agreements, giving up a child to gain power as some great sacrifice, but the reality of it just doesn't seem right to him. Surely the baron could have gone to visit his daughter as easily as Monroe did.

Maybe if he'd put her into a worse place, he would have risen higher in the aristocracy. But he might have loved his daughter too much to do worse to her.

Five weeks stuck in a labyrinth still sounds plenty bad to him.

To his surprise, Clarke declined to come with him to escort Niylah home, staying instead at the tavern with Monroe, so when the baron offers to let him stay the night, he declines, takes the reward and then his leave. The tavern is much more his kind of place than the keep, anyway.

They have a couple rounds with Monroe before she makes excuses about checking on Niylah, and then it's just the two of them, warm and flush with victory.

He hesitates for only a second. "So, Lady Gaia," he says, and is rewarded with Clarke's brilliant grin.

And that's how it goes for them, how it feels like Bellamy's life is going to be, him and Clarke, together, figuring out puzzles, overcoming obstacles, and taking noblewomen home to their parents. Bellamy does that step alone, always, but Clarke takes the ladies aside first, gives them maps and instructions to free themselves, tells them to spread the word among their friends, to let them know that there are guides available, for any damsels who think they might be in need.

He's not sure when, exactly, he falls in love with her, but he notices in the northern caves, while they're trying to find Lady Harper. It's one of their tougher rescues, as the caves are actually operated by a group of goblins who take the whole thing very seriously. They set up traps and actually try to deter rescuers, and Bellamy is honestly a little worried they'll have to _fight_ at the end. He's not excited about potentially killing goblins. He's never killed anything sentient before, and he doesn't want to start.

The deeper they get into the cave, the colder it gets, and when they make camp, Clarke's the one to say, "We need to put our sleeping rolls together."

"We do?" he asks, working on a fire.

"We shouldn't leave the fire burning all night, it would be dangerous. Something might see. But it's cold, so--"

"So we should put the sleeping rolls together," he agrees. "You want to work on that while I handle food?"

"Got it."

He doesn't think of it as a big deal. He and Octavia used to share his bed sometimes in the winter; their mother would join too, if it was cold enough. He hasn't done it in a few years, and he'd probably feel a little odd doing it now, but just because he's related to them. With Clarke, it's purely practical, and it keeps on being purely practical right up until she cuddles up against his chest and he realizes exactly how he feels about her.

It's not the best timing, but it's his own fault for not noticing sooner. He really should have figured this out.

They're a comfortable enough team that it's not a big problem, not really. Even if he didn't realize he _wanted_ her, he knew she was his partner and his best friend, and he trusted her to take care of herself, even in danger.

It's a little distracting, but not catastrophic, just annoying. He'd like to be able to talk to her about it, or at least figure out how to talk to her, but they can't do that until they've gotten Harper out, and possibly not until they've gotten her home. They have maps to make and traps to disarm, and it really is _complicated_. He doesn't have time to worry about anything else.

The final confrontation even involves some actual combat, for once, but they're able to incapacitate the goblins, rather than killing them, and take Harper out through another hidden exit. If there's one thing Bellamy's learned as a rescuer, it's that there's _always_ a hidden exit.

"I don't know why you aren't just telling people about the back ways in," he tells Clarke, as they make their way back to town. "Just give them the shortcut."

"It doesn't work like that. You have to solve it."

He frowns. "They're already not solving it. What's the difference between giving them a map through the caves and giving them a map outside the caves?"

"It's _magic_ , Bellamy. I can't explain it."

"Thanks. That's really satisfying. Clears everything up."

She taps her jaw, really thinking it over, and Bellamy feels his heart swell with stupid fondness. "I guess it's that--it doesn't matter how fast you solve it, right? If you'd somehow gotten really lucky and chosen the exact right path through the caves, you'd still be doing the same basic thing. But you have to complete that act. Completing the task is what matters. You can know how to do it going in, but you still have to do it."

"And going in the back doesn't count."

"No," Clarke and Harper say together, with a certainty he's not going to argue with. They're the experts.

Not that he knows why Clarke is such an expert. Her exact relationship with the nobility is still something she's keeping quiet about, but it's obvious she's involved in it, and that she's still expecting to deal with this herself someday. It's why she never comes with him to drop off the ladies, why the ladies always seem to recognize and respect her, but know nothing of him. 

But she hasn't said anything about it, so he hasn't either. He assumes that, when the time comes, she'll let him know what she wants him to do.

As it turns out, she does it that night.

There's a small town near the caverns where they slept before they went in, and their first stop once they get back is the hot springs. Bellamy separates from Clarke and Harper, heading to the men's section while they go to the women's, and he stays until his skin goes pruny and longer, letting all the aches melt out of his body. 

He goes back to the inn, expecting to find Clarke and Harper already there, but it's only Harper, sitting in a booth with a steaming mug. He slides in across from her, gives her a smile. "Clarke still cleaning off?"

Harper worries her lip. "No. She--she got a letter. She had to leave, but she told me to give you this."

"Leave?" he asks, blank, and Harper shrugs, pushing the parchment across the table to him. He takes it with numb fingers, recognizes it as the same paper Clarke uses for everything, sturdy and pale tan, crisply folded, with his name written on the front in her neat hand. 

Usually, this would be when they'd celebrate, get a few drinks and a meal in the tavern itself, but without Clarke, there's no real appeal to that. He excuses himself to Harper, asks for dinner to be sent to his room, and takes the letter up with him.

It's not a long message: _Summoned home by my mother on the inevitable family business. I'll need a rescue in Arcadia soon enough, I assume. If you don't mind coming by once you've gotten Harper home, I'd appreciate it._

She hasn't signed her name, just written an _x_ at the bottom, and Bellamy flops onto his back with the letter on his face, upset for no good reason. This isn't bad news; it's honestly about what he expected. But he'd expected to get to go with her, to talk to her. And he's never really been to Arcadia before. He knows about it, vaguely, and he thinks he passed through on the way to the labyrinth, but he's unfamiliar with their terrain and aristocracy. He has no idea what kind of obstacles he might be up against.

But he can probably figure it out. Even without Clarke to help. Just because he's never done it alone doesn't mean he can't.

Harper's waiting for him the next morning, looking bright and fresh and only a little nervous. "What did she say? I assume the queen wanted her to come home?"

It's early enough that for a second, he thinks he didn't hear her correctly. "The queen?"

"Queen Abigail."

He thinks it over for a second, but he likes Harper, and she and Clarke got along, so he figures he might as well be honest. "She never actually told me who she was. Is Queen Abigail her mother?"

Harper's jaw drops at first, but she recovers fast, actually looks a little charmed. "You didn't know she was a princess?"

"I'm not from Arcadia. I knew they _had_ a princess, I guess. But I didn't remember her name or anything. There are a lot of princesses." He huffs. "Well, I guess if I rescue her, I'll get a really good reward, right?"

Her smile twitches a little at the corner. "I assume you will, yes."

It takes him a week and a half to drop Harper off and get to Arcadia, and another few days to make it to the capital. Rumors are already spreading about the princess, who had some kind of curse to be fulfilled on her eighteenth birthday. Standard princess stuff, really. According to a talkative palace attendant at a tavern, the queen had been trying to renegotiate, because something about the agreement made with the witch involved the king's health, and his death voided some part of the deal.

"What's the reward?" Bellamy asks. "For saving her."

The attendant shrugs. "The usual, I assume. The monetary equivalent of her hand in marriage. Not as rich a prize as it would be if the king lived, but we already have princes on the way hoping to claim it." He squints at Bellamy. "You're quite early, honestly."

"I'm not a prince," he says, finishing his drink. "Any word on where she is? Where do princesses go around here?"

"I heard she convinced the witch to let her choose her own prison, as part of the deal. Traditionally, it's the highest peak of the farthest mountain in the land, so the suitor may prove his--"

Bellamy nearly laughs. "Wait, she picked where she went?"

The attendant huffs, as if he was very excited to give the full history of Arcadian princess rescue. "She did."

"Awesome. Nice to meet you, thanks for the help."

"You think you know where she is?"

He grins. "I've got a pretty good idea, yeah."

Clarke took most of her things with her, but she left her packet of maps with the innkeeper, and the innkeeper passed it along to Bellamy when he and Harper paid for their rooms. He'd assumed that she'd wanted him to have them in case any were going to be useful, but he hadn't thought it would be so straightforward. 

But if she got to choose her own prison, he knows exactly where she went.

The labyrinth is another week's journey away, and once he gets there the innkeeper in the closest town is clearly shocked to see him.

"I didn't think word had gotten out yet."

"So there is a lady in there?"

"Yes. Not a local, but I haven't heard who she is yet. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in there again so soon. It's not in very high demand."

"Yeah, it's only been about a year, right? Since the last one was rescued."

The innkeeper brightens. He remembers her vaguely from last time, a pretty girl about his age. He assumes that ladies imprisoned in the labyrinth are one of the few exciting things that happen around here. It's like his town, but with a giant old prison nearby. "Yes. She's come back to live nearby now, actually. She's not bad, for a noble."

Bellamy has to smile. If there's one thing his new career has changed his mind about, it's nobles. Some of them are awful, but for the most part, they aren't as bad as he thought.

Maybe Clarke just had him rescuing the good ones.

"Glad to hear it." He stretches. "I'll probably want a room when I get back, if you have one for tonight."

"Get back from what?"

"The labyrinth."

The innkeeper frowns. "It's already after noon. You don't think you can really finish by tonight, do you?"

"I don't know," he says, with a smile. "It doesn't look so hard."

The labyrinth is familiar in the worst possible way; the whole thing looks exactly the same, endless identical brick halls, so even with Clarke's map and a bit of chalk, he can't help second-guessing that he's going the right way.

But he gets to the long corridor right on schedule, checks it faithfully for traps as he walks even though he's sure it's fine, and makes it to the door at the center without taking a single wrong turn.

He's pretty sure it didn't even take him an hour, with the directions. And there isn't even a lock to pick this time.

Clarke's sitting on the bed, reading, just like Niylah was, and she jumps at the sound of his foot on the tile floor.

He offers her a small smile. "Sorry, should I have knocked?"

She closes her book, laughing. "That would have been the polite thing, yeah."

"Sorry. This is my first time rescuing a princess."

"It's basically like rescuing anyone else, but you get paid more." She throws her arms around him, a warm, solid hug that takes his breath away. It hasn't been that long, but it _was_ a gamble for her. He could have decided not to come, or not figured it out. 

Not that it was hard, but still. He could have let her down.

"I didn't think you'd make it here so quickly."

"It was pretty obvious."

"I just meant traveling. You must have gotten a horse to Arcadia."

"Oh, yeah. And to here." He nuzzles her hair. "I didn't want anyone else to get to you first."

She laughs. "I was pretty sure no one else would look for me here."

"And none of them had a map." He pulls away, looking her over, checking for damage. "Harper could have made it home alone. I would have come with you."

"It's a _quest_ , Bellamy. It doesn't count if you just watch me get locked up."

"As always, I don't instinctively know how this works and it's weird that you do."

She bites the corner of her mouth, grinning. "It's not _instinctive_. I was taught."

"So did I do everything right? Am I good? Are you officially rescued? Does it matter that there wasn't a lock on the door?"

"I pointed out I couldn't get out of the labyrinth anyway," she says. "The witch agreed. So--I'm rescued. You did it."

He swallows hard, reaches over and takes her hand, gentle, and she smiles. "Okay, so--are you ready to leave? Or are we waiting?"

"I want to go out through the labyrinth," she says.

"Cool." He gives her the map. "You can navigate."

He waits until he can see the exit before he asks, "Do I have options for the reward?"

"I thought you were doing it for free."

"That was before I knew you could afford it."

She laughs. "So what were you thinking?"

"I heard it's the monetary equivalent of marrying a princess. How does that work?"

"My mother offers you gold until you agree to not marry me."

He rubs his thumb against hers. "What if I never agree to that?"

For a second, she looks confused, and then she grins, buries her face against his shoulder. "Marriage is still technically an option. If everyone's willing."

"Are they?"

She tugs lets go of his hand so she can tug him in, leaning up to catch his mouth with hers. He can taste the smile on her lips, and it's only remembering that they're in a labyrinth and less than two miles from a much more appealing inn that keeps him from tugging her closer.

"My mother might not be thrilled," she admits, when he pulls back.

"Should I be worried?"

"Not at all. You rescued the princess. Even you should know what comes next. Everyone learns this part." He cocks his head, and she grins. "Come on, Bellamy. Happily ever after. That's why you do it."

He laughs. "That's not exactly what I was expecting, honestly. But it does sound pretty good."

"Yeah," she agrees. "It should be fun."


End file.
